


you'll blow us all away

by aheadfullofdreams



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfullofdreams/pseuds/aheadfullofdreams
Summary: She lay in her wide, empty bed that night with a stone in her stomach and tears in her eyes.Alderaan is one of the most visited planets by the Jedi - it won’t be long before they come for him.--------Years before the fall of the Republic, Lari Dume prepares to hand over her youngest child to the Jedi.





	you'll blow us all away

**Author's Note:**

> My god this literally has been sat in my drafts for about two months. I'm still not satisfied with the ending but oh well. Also, the names here are purely coincidental - I just happen to like the name Iden.

He was playing in the garden with his sisters when she made the decision. She watched with melancholy as he toddled after them with all the determination that only a toddler can manage, attempting to keep up with the longer-legged girls. The two eldest girls paid him no heed, too busy arguing and chasing each other through the flower beds - but Janai, _bless her heart_ , slowed down to allow him to catch up.

“Come on,” she urged with a smile, clapping her hands in front of her to encourage him to walk faster. “Do you want me to carry you?”

He shook his head furiously, gazing up at the six-year-old with resolve. Ever since his third birthday, he’s been intent to be big like his sisters, refusing to be carried anyway and protesting whenever they babied him. Janai didn’t let his refusal bother her, instead, she just smiled widely at him and grabbed his one of his smaller hands in hers to pull him towards their quarreling sisters. Her long chestnut braids swung behind her as he struggled to keep up with her much longer stride.

When they reached the two girls stood in front of the starflower patch, Janai collapsed onto the floor with a huff, dragging the younger boy with her. He giggled as he lands on his sister's chest - Janai pretending to be strained by his weight. Her heart swelled at the sight of them. Her four beautiful children. The two eldest with their minds too quick for her to keep up with - Una with her quick wit, and Iden with her smart tongue. Janai with het sweet demeanour, and Caleb with his bright determination. She watched over them carefully; a silent guardian in their enclosed safe-haven. She pretends that it can always be this way, that it never has to change. That they can stay this young and innocent forever, safe in her garden where she can take care of them in the safety of their own little bubble. 

As she watched the girls argue about the flora decorating the garden with the two youngest giggling on the ground beside them, she makes her decision.

Deep down, she knows that it’s best if he goes with them. He was always different - just a shade too lucky (a trip that should have been a fall, a knock that definitely should have been a cut), just a little bit too intuitive for a child of his age (the way he always knew when she would be home, waiting by the door). When she had come downstairs that morning to see him float a starblossom off the kitchen table as Janai laughed and clapped with delight - she hadn’t felt shocked, just sad acceptance.

She had applauded him as he grinned up at her, delighted by his own cleverness. Then she’d rushed the girls off to school, trying to ignore the growing pit in her stomach every time he laughed at his sisters’ antics or waved goodbye to Icar Pareece in the tiny grocer’s shop. When she finally put him down to nap just an hour before the girls would rush home, she finally sat down to consider the whole horrible situation.

When she had considered it in the past, she had expected to feel some form of relief - some kind of comfort that at least things would be easier financially. Supporting four children and running the house since Des’ passing had proven problematic. Although she had returned to work, she still didn’t earn enough to pay for everything. She had already had to rely on family friends to take care of the children while she worked longer, and she dreaded the day when she had to pay for Caleb’s education too. While education was free, everything else that came with it wasn’t. There were still books, uniforms, lunches, trips. She had already had to sacrifice Iden’s visit to Aldera and Una’s trip to Cloudshape Falls - much to the girls’ embarrassment and the pity of all of their friends. She had reasoned with herself that if she didn’t have to pay for his schooling and to keep him warm, and fed, and happy, it would take some of the weight off of her shoulders. She attempts to find some comfort in that. ( _She can’t_ ).

She knows that they’ll come for him soon. His name had been taken when his recent doctor’s check-up had proven her theory. The doctor had hummed at the blood results, grinning down at his little face. “Well, that’s quite a big number, isn’t it, little man?” Caleb had just laughed at him and nodded furiously, not a clue what was going on. The doctor had flicked him on the nose softly, looking up at her with kind eyes. “You must be so proud. He’ll make a fine Jedi someday.” She knows the words were meant to offer her some comfort. ( _They hadn’t._ )

She lay in her wide, empty bed that night with a stone in her stomach and tears in her eyes.

Alderaan is one of the most visited planets by the Jedi - it won’t be long before they come for him.

So instead of waiting at the door, dreading the day that they come for her baby boy and she has to hand him over, she sat on the porch in the spring sunshine and observed her precious daughters teach their little brother about the different types of flowers and plants in the garden, Una taking the lead on informing him of all of their names and meanings. Iden interrupts every now and then with a loud complaint of “that’s wrong Una, Goddess, don’t they teach you anything in big school?”

Una rolled her eyes at the younger girl, flicking her black hair behind her shoulder and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “As if you know any better.”

“I do,” Iden said with a smirk, pushing her sister out of the way to bend down beside Caleb and point at the pink blossom. Janai seemed to find this entire interaction horribly amusing and promptly burst into fits of giggles at the expression on Una’s face when Iden gets it right.

The girls continue their journey around the garden, taking great pleasure in teaching the little boy the names of the spring’s first blooms. After a while he gets bored; she spies his gaze beginning to wander, over towards the stone footpath and the ball Janai had left abandoned there. Eventually, he got up during another one of his sister’s quarrels and journeyed over towards the ball. None of his sisters notice his absence, too busy trying to outsmart each other beside the Conifer tree. She watched him with a careful eye as he ran over to the ball. While he’s never been prone to falling over or injuring himself in general, he was a loud and frequent crier as a babe. She’s never really grown out of keeping one eye and ear on him at all times, even if he’s outgrown crying at the loudest volume possible.

But he doesn’t fall over, he remains as steady as always, and as he gets closer to the ball, she pretends that she imagines that the ball starts rolling towards him.

***

When they do come for him, it’s mid-spring and the spring rain has trapped him indoors. He’s incredibly unhappy at this turn of events as he ensures to tell her every five minutes. “I want to go outside,” he complains, tugging on her shirt as she folds the laundry. 

“Soon, baby,” she promises, lowering one hand to run it over his dark head. He just sighs in response, wrapping his arms around her leg and pressing his face into her thigh in despair. The girls are in school and without Janai to entertain him, he’s taken to annoying her instead. She’s busy chuckling at him when the knock on the door comes.

When she opens the door to see them there all stern and proper, she can’t help but be incredibly grateful that she had taken care to ensure that the girls said goodbye to him properly every single morning. She made each of them place a kiss on his forehead and give him a hug. It had confused the two younger girls, but Una, that clever girl, had just wrapped her arms around him and squeeze tightly, burying her little face into his hair and whispering goodbye.

He never got upset by the dramatic goodbyes and she wonders briefly if he somehow knows that his time here is coming to an end.

She invites these cold, distant strangers into her house and offers them tea. They’re polite, but there’s still a coldness to them and she can’t help the dread that creeps into her heart at the thought of him stuck with these people. Is she condemning him to a life without colour, or warmth, or joy? The older of the two (the Master, she notes vaguely) addresses her courteously, explaining why they’re here. When she finishes her offer, the younger one (only a Knight) tells her that in the end, what happens is her decision.

She almost takes the out, tries to consider it a sign that maybe she shouldn’t let him go. But the honest truth is that she can’t afford him now without Des around. If she lets him go, she can give the girls a comfortable life, and he’ll grow up with the best education possible and become a Guardian of the Peace. If she keeps him, she’ll struggle to make ends meet and support her children. Goddess only knows what will become of him and the girls then.

She sticks to her decision and tries to ignore the pit growing in the back of her throat.

***

He’s lying on the floor of his room when she goes to get him. He’s found Iden’s colours and is busy scribbling nonsense all over Una’s Mathematics book. She can’t find it within her to give out to him - she really can’t afford to buy another one if the teacher complains. Instead, she just sits down beside him and pulls his little body into her arms. She can tell that he’s confused, his little eyebrows furrowing as he gazes up at her face with eyes just like hers - she dreads to see what he sees there, but he just burrows his face into her neck, breathing heavily, overwhelmed by her grief. She doesn’t even realise that she’s crying until he pulls away and there are tear-tracks running down his little, lovely face too. She knows that he has no idea why he’s so sad, why he suddenly feels the full spectrum of her sadness.

She rubs the tracks from his skin with her thumb and brushes his hair from his face. She had meant to cut his hair soon but couldn’t seem to find the time. Now she regrets it ( _there’s a lot she regrets_ ). She tries to commit everything about him to memory - the exact hue of his skin ( _lighter than hers, darker than his fathers_ ), the tawny brown of his hair ( _he looks like his father, Goddess, how hadn’t she noticed that before?_ ), the sea-glass green-blue of his eyes ( _the same as hers, the same as his sisters_ ). He’s such a little thing, barely tall enough to climb onto the kitchen chair ( _how will he ever fit in with these people who all seem so big?_ ).

“Mama,” he whimpers, puzzled. She hushes him silently with a watery smile, rubbing his back as he calms down from the impending tantrum brought on by the sudden onslaught of grief. 

When he calms from his distress, she stands up from the wooden floor and picks him up for what might be the last time. The grief sits on her shoulders like a black cloud, but instead of lingering on the sadness, she gets him ready to leave. She dresses him in his warmest clothes - she’s never been to Coruscant and doesn’t know anything about the climate there, but he’s always been susceptible to the weather, and she doesn’t want him to be cold. She swallows back another wave of tears, but she can’t seem to clear the ball that’s stuck in her throat, threatening to choke her.

When they’re done, she kneels down in front of him, grabbing his tiny hands in her own, taking in the softness of his skin against hers. She smiles at him, trying to blink away the tears as not to frighten him any more than she already has. His eyes are wide and red-rimmed, but he smiles back at her when she manages to fake a grin.

“You’ve got to promise me something, okay baby?” She’s proud of the way that her voice remains steady, moving one of her hands to run it through his hair.

He nods with his little brows furrowed. He doesn’t understand. While she’s devastated by the thought, deep down she’s glad that he’s far too young to ever really remember this. She’ll never forget his face, but it won’t even be a few months before he forgets hers. While it shatters her heart, it brings her the tiniest amount of comfort to know that he won’t remember this heartache.

“You’ve got to be a big boy now. You’ve got to be good, and polite, and brave. Just like the heroes from the stories.” He grins widely at that, clutching her hand. “I promise, Mama,” he determines with all the might of a self-assured three-year-old. Her heart soars even as it shatters, he’s such a brave child, her little boy. She pulls him close to her, entrapping him in her arms and squeezing as tight as possible. She buries her nose in his hair and tries to remember every little detail - “You’re going to be so good, sweetheart. You’ll shine so bright - you’ll outshine them all.”

***

He’s long gone by the time that the girls return home. She’s been sat on the bottom step of the stairs since he left with the Jedi, unable to get up. There’s so much to do, bills to pay, and the washing must be put away, and the dinner has to be cooked - but she just can’t get her legs to move. She just sits there staring at the door. She doesn’t regret her decision - after all, it was the right one - but she can’t control her grief anyway. She hasn’t felt this way since Des died - the overpowering sense of despair.

She can hear the girls outside when they reach the door - their ringing voices chattering away outside the door. They walk home every day with their friends and their mothers. Everybody had been so kind since Des died; offering their help in any way they can - taking care of the children while she worked, walking her children home from school, offering to bring food, second-hand clothes, anything she needs.

 _I wonder if they can bring my baby back_ , it’s cruel, and bitter, but it escapes her all the same.

She stands up from the step with a great shuddering breath, wiping under her eyes and breathing in deeply to steady herself. The girls burst into the house with bright smiles and shining faces. Their hair is plastered to their heads with the rain, and her heart puts itself back together again just a little bit at the sight of them. They need her so much; those clever little girls.

She will be okay; she will never forget his face, but she’s never forgotten Des’ either and yet she’s still standing. This won’t kill her, even if it feels like her heart has been ripped from her chest.  
Una, Iden, and Janai will be okay too, even as they burst into tears when she tells them that Caleb won’t be coming home anymore. She wipes their faces and soothes each of them in turn. Una tries to be brave, attempting to hold back tears even as they stream down her face. Her sisters don’t have so much luck - Janai is a mess of snot and tears, her sobs ripped from her in loud wails. Iden cries silently, tucked away under Una’s arm.

Her heart aches more than she ever thought possible at the sight of them. But she knows that they’ll be okay. They’ve always been able to bounce back from grief and remain their same carefree selves. They will be okay; they will grow up and blow her away, each and every one of them. Una will stand up for what she thinks is right, pleading the case of the smaller people, voice ringing. Iden will fix anything and everything she can get her hands on, face covered in engine grease, eyes always aimed towards the stars. And sweet, little Janai will take after her mother, taking care of those who need her most, taking care of the flowers and the planet around them.

And little Caleb. Sweet, little Caleb will grow up and become a Jedi Knight and protect those who need defending ( _and forget all about her_ ).

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda have another two other stories based on the Jedi taking children away half-written if anyone would be interested in that. While Lari felt grief - not everybody does, and the other two stories help to highlight that.
> 
> This is probably going to be completely overturned by the last six episodes of SWR but I just liked the idea of Caleb/Kanan's mother being proud of the man her son's become.


End file.
